


Like Fog In Early Autumn

by xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Pining, Shirbert, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but still set sometime in season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23774308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx/pseuds/xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx
Summary: The first time Gilbert touches her following Anne's earth-shattering revelation that she’s desperately in love with him, is the moment she realizes she’s got a bit of a problem on her hands.[for the Tumblr prompt: Gilbert gets angry at Anne about not treating him like her friends, or like anyone else.]
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 84
Kudos: 448





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got this Tumblr prompt in my ask box a while ago asking for a story about Gilbert being upset at Anne over never treating him like her friends or anyone else.
> 
> It took me a while, but I finally filled it! But also I wrote this at like 2 a.m. so you'll likely notice a few season 3 timeline flubs (hence the canon divergence tag!)

If books and fairytales had lead Anne to believe anything about love, it was that when love finally came knocking at her door, it would arrive without any proper warning—like an unexpected bolt of lightning slicing its way through an inky blue night sky.

Anne never once thought love would move in slow— like the way the fog has a tendency to creep over the rolling hills of Avonlea on still mornings in early autumn. Unassuming in its quiet, delicate progression, yet all-consumingly impossible to ignore once it had settled into every nook and cranny.

Gilbert Blythe was the epitome of fog in early autumn.

And he'd seeped into her heart so slowly that Anne hadn't even realized she'd been falling all this time. That all those tiny, little, seemingly inconsequential moments they'd shared over the time they’d known each other had secretly been building up to something far greater than anything Anne's impressive scope for the imagination ever could have fathomed.

Not until one day when she'd just so happened to glance over in his direction just as he'd been looking at her. They'd locked eyes, and he'd shot her that same small smile he'd given her so many times now she'd lost count. Only this time, it felt more or less as though Gilbert's smile was an arrow that had shot straight through her heart with such precision, Anne was a bit surprised she hadn’t dropped dead right there on the spot.

After that it’s impossible to ignore the way thoughts of Gilbert now come equipped with a warm and fuzzy feeling that blooms in the pit of her stomach, not unlike the way the wildflowers bloom along the banks of the Lake of Shining Waters in the spring. Or how these days, she can’t help but blush over the way that Gilbert says her name-- with a certain sort of inflection in his voice Anne hasn’t quite figured out a word for yet. She finds she can’t help the way her skin pebbles in anticipation whenever she knows she’ll be seeing him again. Or how her eyes suddenly have a tendency to dart over in Gilbert’s direction whenever she thinks it's safe to gaze upon his handsome features.

Sometimes, he catches her looking and shoots her that same soft smile Anne likes to pretend Gilbert reserves only for her. And every time he does, Anne can’t quite decide if she’s more mortified over the realization that she’s been caught, or secretly thrilled over the idea that Gilbert maybe doesn’t seem to mind so much that she’s been staring to begin with.

The first time Gilbert touches her following the earth-shatteringrevelation that she’s desperately in love with him, is the moment Anne realizes she’s got a bit of a problem on her hands.

It’s just a small graze really— a gentle tap with the backs of his fingers on her arm to get her attention— but it’s enough for Anne to jump back as though she’s been electrocuted just like Moody had during Miss Stacy’s lightbulb lesson.

When it happens, she’s too stunned to speak, and all she can do is stare at Gilbert with a wide-eyed expression as she watches his eyebrows pinch together in concern, aprofuse apology tumbling from his lips.

Anne can still feel her skin tingling where Gilbert touched her long after they’ve parted ways— and the sensation is so maddeningly acute, it finds her racing up to her bedroom once she gets back to Green Gables just so she can rip her dress off in an effort to assess the damage with her own two eyes. She’s almost shocked when she finds that Gilbert’s fingers had not in fact left any semblance of a mark upon her skin.

And that’s the moment Anne decides that despite their new found friendship, it’s time to put some much needed distance between herself and Gilbert Blythe.

As the days go on, Anne pretends she doesn’t notice the hurt in Gilbert’s eyes when she stops sitting next to him when they join the rest of the Queens hopefuls in studying for their upcoming entrance exams.Pretends she doesn’t see the way a tiny crease forms between Gilbert’s eyebrows whenever she drags either Ruby or Diana in between them when he tries to walk beside her during class outings.

The crestfallen expression that materializes on Gilbert’s face when Anne hugs everyone but him after a rather victorious town hall protest is almost enough for her resolve to waiver.

 _Almost_. But not quite.

Because it’s not long before the fear burning in her stomach far outweighs the guilt she feels deep within her heart whenever she remembers the look on Gilbert’s face after the protest. How he’d slowly dropped his arms in defeat when he realized Anne was not, in fact, about to launch herself into them as she had with all their other friends.

It’s easier, she reasons, to live with the guilt, than to risk what Gilbert might see if she lets him get too close. Because Anne knows that if she doesn’t keep her distance, it won’t be long before he realizes she’s in love with him. And she’s almost certain her heart won’t be able to take it if, after discovering her deepest darkest secret, Gilbert were to sit her down and tell her that he _does_ care for her— but only as a friend and nothing more.

Keeping her distance comes with a price.

Gilbert doesn’t smile at her the way he used to. Doesn’t seek her out. Doesn’t catch her staring because it seems as though these days, he spends most of his time decidedly not looking anywhere in Anne’s general direction. And all the while, Anne bitterly thinks that this is what she gets for all those years she spent foolishly wishing for a tragical romance.

The ache and heaviness she feels in her heart from pushing Gilbert away finally comes to a head at the fair after the sun goes down and the whole of Avonlea finds themselves packed together in the barn.

It’s the first few notes of Dashing White Sergeant that finally does her in. And suddenly, her vision blurs as Anne remembers the way Gilbert had taken her hand all those weeks ago at dance practice.

How he’d twirled her toward him in a way that left her feeling breathless. How standing at his side had felt like coming home. How for just a moment it had felt as though they were the only two humans left on earth…she hadn't known then what to call the feeling coursing through her veins, but she does now.

Anne rips herself away from Diana’s side then, ignoring the way her bosom friend calls out to her in favor of pushing through the crowd and bursting through the side door. She’s moving so fast, she doesn’t even notice she’s gone careening into another human.

A hand reaches out to steady her before she stumbles, and Anne is so shocked by the strong grip on her elbow, it takes a moment for her to realize the hand upon her belongs to Gilbert.

“Gilbert!” Anne cries out in surprise, just as he says “ _Oh_.” When he realizes it’s her.

He lets go of her quickly, taking a step back, fingers flying to run nervously through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Anne stammers. “I didn’t realize you were— I didn’t see you…I’ll just— I’ll go.”

“Of _course_ you will,” he says sardonically.

Anne had already started backing away, but the tone in his voice is enough to have her moving forward again until she’s standing right in front of him.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” she asks heatedly.

“You tell me— _you’re_ the one who’s been acting strange,” he fires back.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Gilbert!”

“ _I’m_ being ridiculous? _You’re_ the one who’s been acting like you can’t stand to be around me!"

“I’m standing right in front of you now, aren’t I?” Anne bristles, taking a step toward him as though to prove her point.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Gilbert seethes. “You could at least do me the courtesy of explaining, you know— of telling me why you feel as though it’s alright to treat me differently from everyone else.”

Anne tries to protest, but Gilbert cuts her off. She doesn’t think she’s seen him this upset at her since the time she put her foot in it with him right after his father died.

“You know, the worst part is that I thought we were finally getting along— I thought we were friends.”

The slight quiver in his voice makes hers waver in turn. “Gilbert…it’s not that simple—”

“It _is_ though, Anne— either we’re _friends_ , or we’re _not_ \-- which is it?"

_Maybe I don’t want to be your friend…_

It’s on the tip of her tongue— and she almost says it out of sheer frustration over the fact that Gilbert is clearly too blind to see the shades of grey Anne’s heart colors over the ultimatum he’s given her. The one he assumes to be so incredibly black and white.

She gets as far as “Maybe I don’t…” before the rest of the sentence dies in her throat— a casualty of the pain she can already see forming in Gilbert’s eyes as though he’s caught on to what she’d come so close to saying aloud.

“ _Gilbert_ …”

Anne’s voice cracks halfway through his name, lower lip wobbling-- tears pooling at the brim across her lower lash line over the sight of how much heartache she’s caused him all in the name of selfishly attempting to spare herself from feeling any semblance of pain.

Suddenly, Anne finds herself deciding that she’d sooner rather shatter her own heart into a million tiny pieces, than go on living knowing _she's_ the reason why the spark in Gilbert’s eyes has dulled in anguish. And with her mind firmly made up, Anne does what she should have doneback at the town hall and launches herself straight at him, arms looping tightly around his neck as she pulls him as close as their bodies will allow.

“Oh, Gil— I’m _so sorry_! I’ve been acting so stupidly. Of _course_ I want us to be friends! Though I’m sure my recent actions will have done nothing to prove to you that my words are sincere,” she rambles as the tears flow freely down her cheeks. "I can only hope that...despite how awful I've made you feel...you'll still want to be _mine_...?"

He's silent for a moment and Anne thinks perhaps Gilbert's thinking better of it-- realizing that maybe it's better not to force a friendship with someone as stubborn and hot tempered as she is. And then she feels it, his arms slowly coming around to embrace her back.

"Yes," he whispers close to her ear, breath deliciously fanning across the skin there. "I still want to be _yours_."

Anne smiles, sighing in relief-- tries not to get too swept up in the idea of the word _yours,_ as she gives him a final tight squeeze before reluctantly pulling away _._

Gilbert reaches into his pocket to procure a handkerchief, which Anne takes through a watery laugh before using it to wipe away whatever traces of tears she hadn't left behind on his shirt.

"Thanks," she says quietly. "I really _am_ sorry."

"I know," Gilbert whispers as a hint of her favorite smile pulls gently at the corners of his lips. "Let's just...promise each other that if there's a problem-- or if anything changes in the future we'll talk it through...?"

Anne straightens at the sound of the word _promise_ , a solemn expression crossing over her features as she takes a step toward Gilbert before raising a hand between them with her pinky finger extended toward him.

"Take it. With yours."

Gilbert does, staring for a moment at their two entwined fingers before looking up at Anne. "What now?"

"I, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, do _solemnly swear_ that I will be faithful and true to my dear friend Gilbert. And if _ever_ a problem should arise, or a change occur, I promise to bring it to his attention in an effort to talk it through."

"Now you say it-- with your name in place of mine," Anne prompts.

She nods, thoroughly pleased when Gilbert doesn't stumble over the words as he repeats their newly minted solemn vow.

"Do you do this with all your friends?" he asks, voice tinged in amusement.

"Only with the ones who are nearest and dearest to my heart," Anne says quietly as she drops her hand from his.

A smile does bloom then, bright and wide across Gilbert's face. And it fills her heart with so much warmth and reassurance, Anne finds herself thinking that maybe Gilbert doesn't need to know exactly how near and dear to her he really is just yet-- that maybe _this,_ that they're sharing right here under the glow of the stars and the moonlight, is enough for now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just here to give the people what they want (and also myself-- I definitely wanted this too!) 
> 
> Please enjoy the (unexpected) second chapter of 'Like Fog In Early Autumn'!

Anne wrings her hands nervously the Monday following the fair, apprehension curling in her stomach as she worries over how she should act now that she and Gilbert have sworn to be faithful and true to each other— as _friends_.

It doesn’t help, of course, that her love for him complicates everything and sends her into a spiral of overthinking as she makes her way down the path toward school.

She’s grateful for the early start she’d gotten that morning. It gives her purchase to stop along the path here and there to rehearse different variations of what she might say to ease herself and Gilbert into their newfound friendship. The flowers and the trees prove to be a very patient and attentive audience as Anne tries out a variety of opening lines, though they don’t offer much by way of feedback.

Maybe she’ll compliment the hat he’s taken to wearing (she’s grown fond of the way it makes his dark curls stick out a bit around his ears)— that’s something friends do, right?

Or perhaps she’ll ask him how he faired with the homework assignment they were meant to complete over the weekend— friends sometimes discussed school work, didn’t they?

Anne tries her hardest to think back on all of the things she and Diana usually discuss on their walks to school. She comes up empty when she reasons that she can’t very well talk to Gilbert about things that boys often find frivolous like puffed sleeves— or how she’s so close to finally perfecting Marilla’s famous plum puffs.

Maybe they could talk about literature like she and Cole used to before he moved to Charlottetown. Then again, Anne can’t quite remember the last time she saw Gilbert with his nose in a book that _wasn’t_ related to the study of medicine….

She worries herself into such a frenzy, she’s almost relieved when she gets to school only to find that she’s beaten Gilbert there.

 _Perhaps I won’t have to worry about what to say after all if he comes in late…_ Anne thinks to herself as she removes her coat and hat, and hangs them on a hook in the cloakroom.

She’s thoroughly engrossed in some revision materials when she finally hears the distinct sound of Gilbert’s voice carrying over the chatter of their schoolmates.

He bypasses Anne in favor of walking swiftly up to the front of the classroom where Miss Stacy is still prepping things for today’s lesson. And Anne spends the next few minutes losing track over how many times she reads the same sentence over, and over again, while eavesdropping on the conversation Gilbert is having with their teacher.

She finds herself holding her breath when she eventually notices Gilbert’s long legs gradually carrying him in her direction, watching through her lashes until she can’t see him anymore. She knows he’s there though, standing next to her. But when she finally slides her eyes up and away from her book, turning so she can face him, she’s surprised to find that he’s not towering above her, but instead crouching down right next to her desk.

“Hi,” Gilbert says quietly when he’s sure he’s got her attention.

“Hello,” she breathes back.

“I have something for you…”

Anne’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, making note of the fact that Gilbert’s got one hand hidden behind his back. She hadn’t expected any sort of a gift on their first official day as real friends, but she’s certainly curious about what it is that Gilbert could have possibly brought for her.

Slowly, Gilbert brings his hidden hand out from behind his back to reveal a perfectly ripe strawberry apple. He stares down at the fruit he holds out between them for a moment before lifting his eyes back up to meet hers. And Anne can’t help the way her pulse flutters away at the hint of playfulness she spies dancing across the small smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re not going to break your slate over my head this time if I give this to you, _are_ you?” Gilbert teases good-naturedly.

Anne can’t help the light chuckle that escapes her at the memory he’s just referenced.

The hidden meaning behind Gilbert’s gift isn’t lost on her.

Anne’s method of breaking down the invisible wall that had lingered between them for far too long had come by way of solemn vows and pinky swears— direct and to the point. But Gilbert’s way of deconstructing the final obstacle standing in their way was much more subtle. _His_ way was to offer up a symbol of proof to commemorate the fact that they’d come full circle, and chosen to turn over a new leaf.

She clears her throat before she answers, eyes lingering on the apple in his palm. “Not unless you’re planning to pair that apple with another reminder of how positively dreadful the color of my hair is.”

“Seems fair enough,” Gilbert says in amusement. “I accept the terms of the exchange Miss Cuthbert!”

“Although…as your friend…” Gilbert adds, as he places the apple delicately at the corner of her desk. “I feel as though I must confess that I happen to like your red hair _very much_.”

And then, as if feeling like he needs to emphasize his point, Gilbert reaches out to tug ever so lightly at one of Anne’s braids, rendering her utterly speechless as she watches him retreat back to his own desk.

Anne and Gilbert are pretty much inseparable after that, as though they’ve both come to a sort of unspoken agreement that they’ve only got a short while left to make up for all of the time they lost due to pride and stubbornness.

Gilbert would likely call Anne a liar for saying so— especially given how long it took for her to come around— but even at their most volatile, Anne had always been under the impression that life was much easier when she and Gilbert were on amiable terms.

Being in Gilbert’s good graces is nothing compared to what it’s like to actually be on the receiving end of his friendship though. And Anne finds that she quite likes the way he seems to value the sacred nature of camaraderie as much as she does.

Anne tries not to question the way Gilbert’s friendship curls itself around her heart so effortlessly— encasing her entire being in a golden warmth, reminiscent of the way the summer sun has a tendency to tickle at every freckle strewn across her skin when she lies out in the heat for too long.

She chalks it up instead to the fine line between love and friendship. Reasons that at their very core, both are simply relationships between two people who’ve come to an agreement to care deeply for each other in some form or another.

It helps a bit to quell the ache that comes along with yearning for more. It doesn’t do anything to stop the way her heart still sings for him though. How can it, when sometimes a carefully pointed look is all it takes to make her knees buckle? Or when Gilbert says her name with such affection— drawing it out for far longer than Anne feels as though its mundane singular syllable deserves. As though appreciating every one of the four letters it's comprised of.

Sometimes, Anne frets over the way Gilbert makes her heart feel so full. Worries that it won’t be long before he takes up so much space in there, there’ll be nowhere left for her love for him to go but out. It gets to the point where she stops keeping track of how many times she almost blurts out the truth.

The first time it happens,they’re sitting under the cherry tree at Green Gables. Theircourse work forgotten and strewn around them as Anne regales Gilbert with the tale of how she’d attempted to escape a fate of returning to the orphanage after Marilla had mistakenly sent her back.

It’s the look in his eyes that uncorks the feelings she’s been trying so desperately to keep tightly bottled up inside. The way he’s listening so intently, gaze never straying from her face despite the distractions provided by the glorious world around them.

Anne has always fancied herself a fairly compelling storyteller, but no one’s ever looked at her the way Gilbert is now. As though whatever she’s saying is the most important thing in the world. Like he’d be happy to sit there and do nothing but listen to her carry on forever…or at least, until she runs out of words entirely.

She can feel the way his unwavering gaze stokes the love she carries for him— causes it to bubble up in her throat until the truth is on the tip of her tongue. It’s enough for Anne to cut herself off mid-sentence, mouth clamping shut as she wills the words back down so she can safely lock them away again.

“Keep going,” he whispers dazed.

“Huh?” Anne asks, shaking her head in an effort to clear her mind.

“Your story. It sounds as though you were just getting to the good part,” Gilbert prompts gently. “What happened after you were reciting prose to those two women at the train station?”

“ _Oh_...um…then— then Matthew came and found me, and that was it really,” she sputters.

Anne rips her gaze away from Gilbert’s with great difficulty. She tries to be subtle about how she scoots away when she looks down to discover that at some point, she’d moved in so close their legs had ended up partially pressed together.

“We should really get back to studying though, don’t you think?” She adds quickly.

Anne busies herself with pulling their slates and text books closer, arranging them in the space she puts between their bodies so she won’t drift close again. “Geometry is the bane of my existence— I doubt I’ll have a firm grasp on it before we sit for exams…”

The nights and days fly by, picking up speed as they inch closer and closer to the last day of term.

Anne and Gilbert both tie for top score on the college entrance exams. He’s at her side the moment Miss Stacy finishes making the announcement, and wastes no time in throwing propriety out the window as he scoops her into a bone-crushing embrace. It’s the first time in Anne’s short scholarly career that she’s perfectly content to share first place with _anyone._ She finds herself feeling delirious from the euphoria she feels over the combination of being back in Gilbert’s arms, coupled with the knowledge that all of the hard work they’d put into studying had actually paid off.

Anne’s so swept up in the moment she hardly pays any mind to the various looks they get from everyone else in the room: Miss Stacy’s proud smile as she shakes her head good-naturedly in their direction…Diana’s knowing grin…Josie Pye’s shocked expression over the impropriety of their celebration…none of it matters. Not when Gilbert holds her like he never plans on letting go. Not when they’re on the precipice of starting their next grand adventure together.

They’re Queens-bound now— the both of them— and Anne can’t wait to share a million more victories just like this one with Gilbert at her side….as _friends…_

Two weeks later, Anne finds herself standing in the Blythe-Lacroix kitchen. She’s come to deliver a selection of Marilla’s famous plum puffs— the first batch she’s managed to successfully bake all on her own.

Gilbert’s not there when she arrives, but it’s not long before he bursts into the kitchen, startling Bash, Anne, and little baby Delphine with his sudden appearance.

“I GOT IN!” he exclaims, holding up a slightly crinkled letter and a cream colored envelope.

“ _What_?!” Anne exclaims in turn…she thinks she knows what he’s on about, but she waits for him to confirm it.

“Toronto…U of T…I got in to their medical program,” Gilbert says as he tries to catch his breath.

“Atta boy, Blythe!” Bash whoops. “I _knew_ you had it in you!”

“Oh my god— you’re going to be a doctor!” Anne says.

“I’m going to be a doctor!” Gilbert echoes excitedly.

It’s the second time in a fortnight that he takes Anne into his arms. Only this time, he lifts her up, twirling her around the kitchen.

Anne giggles, arms clinging even tighter around his neck as she feels her feet lift up off of the hardwood floor. The feeling of fullness is back in her chest as her heart brims with love and pride on Gilbert’s behalf. This time, she can’t bring herself to hold back from letting it spill over when she feels it bubbling up inside of her. Not when Gilbert is standing before her, almost vibrating from the amount of joy he’s feeling.

He sets her gently back on the ground, looking down at the acceptance letter in his hand as though he can hardly believe what he’s holding. His happiness is infectious and dizzying all at once. And it finds Anne moving in close, stretching up to plant a kiss on his face. She’d been aiming for his cheek, but Gilbert accidentally moves— tilts his head back up and toward her at the last minute, causing Anne’s lips to land on the corner of his rather marvelous chin instead.

She can already feel her face beginning to heat in embarrassment as she pulls back quickly, lips tingling in all the spots where they’d touched his skin. The tips of his ears and her cheeks are sporting twin shades of red. It seems to Anne as though Gilbert’s about to say something, but she beats him to it in an effort to diffuse the moment.

“I— _PLUM PUFFS_!” she blurts out, reaching toward the kitchen table for the basket of baked goods she’d brought with her and thrusting it into Gilbert’s chest.

“Thanks,” Gilbert stammers, fingers flexing across the handle once he’s got a firm grip on it.

He doesn’t say anything more on the matter and neither does Anne. _Neither_ does Bash, for that matter, though he’s usually the first to tease Gilbert about anything.

Anne’s relieved for a moment when she thinks that perhaps Bash hasn’t _said_ anything because he didn’t _see_ anything.

It’s short-lived though. As soon as Anne looks over to where he’s currently doing a bit of washing up at the kitchen sink, there’s no missing the way Bash is furiously biting down on his lower lip, shoulders quivering in exertion as he tries his best to keep from laughing. The relief is quickly replaced by mortification, coupled with a slight sense of gratitude over the fact that for some reason, Gilbert’s brother has chosen to stay silent on the matter as well.

There's a dull ache that settles over her much later when Anne is well over halfway back to Green Gables. As though all of a sudden, her brain has thoroughly processed what Gilbert’s acceptance to University of Toronto really means.

She’d never be one to stand in the way of his dreams or beg him to stay. At the same time, Anne can’t help but allow herself a moment to selfishly lament the fact that they won’t be studying at Queens together next year after all. Because for some incomprehensible reason, the universe has decided to pull them in opposite directions yet again…

Anne bounces on the balls of her feet, eyes darting around the platform on the morning Matthew and Marilla are set to help her move into the boarding house she’ll be staying in while studying at Queens. Gilbert promised he’d be here to see her off, but she’ll have to board the train in just a few minutes, and she’s starting to worry that he won’t make it in time.

He’s a sight for sore eyes when she finally sees him running up, looking handsome and windswept in a way Anne thinks would put all those handsome princes she’s read about in fairytales to shame.

When he’s standing in front of her, he reaches into his coat pocket to procure the pen Anne had let him borrow weeks ago.

“Sorry it took so long to get it back to you,” he says through a grin before promising that he’ll write to her once he’s settled in Toronto.

There’s a look in his eyes that makes Anne think there’s something more he wants to say to her— there’s more Anne wants to say as well, but time isn’t on their side today.

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert! You’d best get on this train _right now_!” calls Marilla from where she’s already boarded.

On impulse, Anne grabs Gilbert’s hand, squeezes it tight and hopes the small gesture serves to say everything she can’t.

“I’ll write to you too!” She promises as she rushes forward to hop on board.

Once seated, she can’t help but stare out the window, forehead pressed against the glass paneling so she can look at Gilbert one last time from where he stands on the platform. She doesn’t tear her eyes away from his smiling face until he completely disappears from view altogether.

Anne had been bracing for a tearful goodbye, but watching Marilla and Matthew leave her is harder than she ever could have imagined. She wants to make them proud though, and she knows they wouldn’t want her to sit in her new room and wallow for long, so she makes up her mind to take a walk around the city.

Reacquainting herself with Charlottetown— this time as an incoming Queens student— proves to be just as thrilling as Anne hoped it would. And she returns to her new residence feeling much more invigorated over the possibility of all of the new adventures just waiting to be had here.

Anne’s stunned to find Gilbert sitting on the front steps of the boarding house waiting for her when she rounds the corner and the building comes into view. He’s quick to straighten when he sees her. She can already see a crease beginning to form between his eyes when his brows pinch together at the sight of her, and Anne longs to smooth it out.

“I caught the next train out after yours pulled out of the station,” he says in explanation. “I know you just got back. But do you suppose we could take a stroll anyway?”

She nods, following as he leads them at a slow pace toward the garden. Anne tries her hardest to be patient as she waits for Gilbert to explain further, but the tension rolling in waves off of his body makes it difficult for her to stay quiet.

“Gilbert…is everything alright? You’re starting to scare me,” she says when she can’t stand the silence any longer.

“Everything’s fine,” he promises, one hand coming up to touch her arm in reassurance. “It’s just that…well, I realized while I was standing on the platform watching your train head off that there’s something I wanted to say. And I can’t put it off any longer.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for,” Anne says gently.

“ _Friends_ …” Gilbert laughs lightly, tilting his head up to the sky for a moment before looking at her once more. “I’m afraid I haven’t done a very good job of keeping our promise— I hope you’ll be able to forgive me for that.”

He leads them over to a bench and Anne shoots him a curious glance once they’re seated. She’s not quite sure how to proceed, but she finds she doesn’t need to prompt him this time.

“Do you remember what I asked you that night at the fair? Do you remember what you said?”

“You said we were either friends or we weren’t. You asked me to pick which it was…and I said it wasn’t that simple,” Anne supplies.

“You were right you know,” he says, nodding in agreement. “It’s _not_ that simple.”

“Gilbert, you’re not making any sense—“

“I guess what I’m doing a terrible job of trying to say is that I don’t want to be your friend, Anne,” He says, holding her gaze steady with his.

“You don’t?” Anne asks faintly, heart sinking at the thought of losing Gilbert forever.

“I don’t…” he says shaking his head. “Not—not _just_ your friend anyway. I still want to be _yours_ though, Anne-girl.”

It’s the second time that afternoon that Gilbert has rendered her wide-eyed and speechless, and Anne’s brain struggles to catch up and fully process what he’s just said.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” Gilbert says quickly, mistaking her silence for an answer. “Nothing has to change— we can just…pretend like…well, like it never happened. Go back to the way it was before.”

Words had always served Anne well, but for the first time in her life, she doesn’t find herself compelled to use them— not when she can just as easily pour the entire contents of her heart into a single, swift action.

It’s the easiest decision she’s ever made to lean forward and press her lips to Gilbert’s in a gentle kiss, and Anne relishes in the sharp intake of breath it draws from him— gives herself purchase to enjoy how exhilarating it is to know something as simple as touching her lips to his could have such an effect on him.

And then, if only to make absolutely sure that there’s no room for confusion on Gilbert’s part, Anne finds herself pulling back slightly just so she can put her answer into words as well.

“ _Yes_ ,” she whispers affectionately. “I’d very much love it if you were _mine,_ Gilbert _._ ”

That’s all it takes for Gilbert to chase her lips with his own, closing the distance between them swiftly as he brings their mouths together again. And if Anne had found all those slight touches they’d shared together to be positively electrifying, it’s nothing compared to the sparks that fly when Gilbert kisses her the way he is now.

Because Gilbert Blythe is fog in early autumn— beautiful, enchanting, and all-consuming in a way that leaves Anne feeling more than a little bit wonderstruck. His heart however, is anything but. Gilbert’s heart is sunshine on a clear day— burning bright, and warm, and golden.

And the fact that Gilbert’s heart burns so bright for her? Well, the knowledge of that is far greater than anything Anne’s impressive scope for the imagination ever could have fathomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere between contemplating a rather short epilogue to chapter 1, the epilogue in question turned into a full-fledged second chapter-- I hope you all don't mind too much that I got a bit carried away though! (I was strangely nervous to post this for some reason so I hope you all like it!)
> 
> And thank you all SO MUCH for the wonderful comments you left on what was originally meant to be a sweet little one-shot about Anne and Gil's super soft friendship! It doesn't matter how long or short your comments are-- they always mean the absolute world!
> 
> And speaking of comments, thanks as always if you're kind enough to leave those (or kudos)-- especially as I'm always curious to know what y'all think of my stories!
> 
> In between uploads, you can find me over on Tumblr @ xxprettylittletimebombxx !
> 
> Hope you're all staying safe, healthy, and happy! <3

**Author's Note:**

> The hardest part of writing is knowing when to quit while you're ahead-- originally I had envisioned a completely different ending to this (which I had to hold myself back from forcing into existence) because I got to *this* end and felt like solidifying the feels and friendship just worked better...?
> 
> (I say this all while also casually already thinking about adding in a bonus epilogue-- is that something y'all would want to read??)
> 
> I dunno-- maybe that's just the lack of sleep talking here, so with that in mind... would love to know what you guys thought of this!
> 
> As always, thank you so, so much if you are kind enough to give me the validation I so desperately crave by leaving comments or kudos, lol.
> 
> Alternatively, you can find me over on Tumblr @ xxprettylittletimebombxx-- feel free to come say hi, or come chat with me about my stories/about all of your AWAE feels, or even send me a fic prompt if you're so inclined! I can't promise I'll fill all of them (or fill them in a timely manner) but I can promise you I'll at least try!


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